bearhat

Now I sing him a different kind o song.

17-12-08
i blush at your glance
turn my head just a little
and swallow my heart

18-12-08
when your man slew me
on a card in my pocket
he left your number

19-12-08
i am breaking thr…

the prince sold his doves
for a cup of lime jelly
ate it in the sun

I still remember my first blood sacrifice. Dared by neighbourhood ruffians I was too eager to befriend, I found myself creeping under the muddy canvas flap of a crowded pavilion to spy on a tra…

As the light fades over the sea, the night will erupt with music and I, sun-smacked, barefoot and reckless, will spill down onto the sand from the door of the playa casa, to dance.
They say …

We bury Sally in her shiny black shoes with the decorative white bows on the side, but every time I look at them I can’t help wondering what happened to her scuffed red boots. I don’t remember …

Different morning, different car. Same legs.

these chips are undercooked, sir—
i demand satisfaction!

there’s nothing decent on television, sir—
i demand satisfaction!

the milk in your fridge, sir, is past its expiration date— …

I’ve been turning in circles for days. landing pattern. that’s what they call it, isn’t it, when a plane circles awaiting permission to land. that’s me, circling, holding, wings out, wheels dow…

been up since five and now the day is bleeding out, a reverse of my entry point, but in technicolour. no black fade to grey fade to blue fade to white this time round, nah, this time it’s catas…

your heart’s on the strip
left out on hard rubbish night
jesus took it home

spring blusters in hard
a sudden punch to the heart
i’m bullied, breathless

when the chips are down
hunt around in the pantry
for another bag

bubbles of foam lift
laughter floats on rushing waves
feet run on wet sand

the future dissolves
measured out in broken dreams
everybody knows

a house full of holes
the southerly wind creeps in
and rakes my numb bones

tears on sale again
found myself an industry
get them by the jar

god get off my lawn
or i’ll turn the hose on you
my snake in eden

J-,
On a clear night I could probably see your house from here—and it’s clear tonight—but your veranda light will be just one of the hundred thousand sparks that make up the constellations of…

ice wind off the sea
winter scratches its long claws
down my shirtless back

beneath this cold hill
we are but bones, while above
the flowers grow still

he drowns in a pond
choked with weeds and wild rushes
the ducks find him there

River of noise roars
The night is punctuated
With backfiring cars

——-

slinking home at dark
unnoticed by satellites
cat scratched my shadow

this tie weighs a tonne
silk lariat for my soul
by pierre cardin